


OTP NSFW Challenge Prompt Fic

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Series: Meeting Like This [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:17:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5885536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of Fett/Leia prompts for the OTP NSFW fic challenge. Rating will range from T to E. Comments are loved and cherished and pressed into a book with wild violets.*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*The violets part is false. Everything else is true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clothed getting off

Hundreds of subterranean tunnels run beneath Fondor City, it doesn’t take long for Leia to find one that’s not regularly used. It’s a service tunnel, used only by mechanics to access the power grid. The lighting is dim, the air is stale and cold. She paces back and forth as she waits. She hears his footsteps just before he passes under a grate and the gray light catches the dome of his helmet.

It was only chance that she saw him entering the cantina near the spaceport. She’s been here for three days, part of a diplomatic envoy sent to the industrial world of Fondor. She supposes that Fett is also here for work. 

She hasn’t seen him since she left Concord Dawn three weeks ago. A few messages have been exchanged. Nothing more.

“How’s Coruscant?” He asks.

“Busy. And quiet.” It was nice to be back at first. Her own bed and clothing, all of her favorite foods. Everything back to normal.

It took a few days before she realized she was waiting for him to show up. 

She wishes now she would have selected a different meeting place, somewhere more comfortable, but slipping away from her colleagues was hard enough. “Could you take off your helmet?”

He complies, hooking it onto his belt. She takes a step forward, breathing in cold air, and he closes the gap between them. His mouth is warm, and she curls into that warmth as the kiss deepens. His gloved hand finds the back of her neck, but his gloves are rough and cold. She pulls at his hand as they break apart. “Take those off too.”

His hands aren’t much warmer, but they feel better on her cheeks as he kisses her again, and his tongue finds hers. Her pulse picks up, a welcome heat rising in her blood and spreading throughout her body. 

His hands are under her cloak now, on her hips and and then down over the curve of her ass. He nuzzles into her throat, just below her ear. “I have a room not far from here.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Ambassadors can’t just wander off. If they realize I’m gone, the embassy will have to treat it as a security crisis. They could lock down the entire city. At the very least, they’ll be hundreds of city guards searching for me.” 

And they might find her. In bed with a highly disreputable bounty hunter. She’s reasonably sure she shouldn’t be turned on by that. She lays her hand against his cheek, rough stubble under her palm. “I can only stay a few minutes, I just...wanted to see you.” 

He leans down until his forehead is touching hers. “Could be a while before I’m back in the core.”

She doesn’t like it, but there’s nothing she can do about it. Just when she’s about to pull away he moves in again. It’s a hungry kiss, one that she returns. 

Even through the layers of clothing and duraplast, there’s heat between them, and her body moves unthinkingly, trying to get closer. She’s reminded of something her adopted father, Bail Organa, used to say. “Desperation and dignity do not go hand in hand.” 

“I have to go,” she says, and she really does have to go. She puts her hands on his chest, spreading her fingers over the cold metal breastplate. “I’ll comm you as soon as I’m back, and maybe I can meet you-” She can’t finish. She knows there’s no guarantee she can give. He knows it too.

She kisses him again and tells herself that this time it’s goodbye. Seconds pass, maybe a minute or two. Then Fett pulls back, his hands on her shoulders. He turns her around, so she’s facing the wall. “Hey,” she protests.“What are you doing?”

“Solving a problem.” His hands go back to her waist, under her cloak and jacket. There’s a tug at her waist, and faint draft of cool air. 

“Boba-”

His hand slides down the front of her pants, his fingers pressing down between her legs. “I did a proximity scan when I arrived, but it’s probably best not to make too much noise.” He moves his fingers, rubbing her through her underwear. “You’re  _ wet _ .”

She can’t really come up with a retort to that. His feet move between hers, forcing her legs wider. One finger slips past her underwear, teasing at the folds of her sex, and she gasps, bracing her hands against the cold metal wall. 

“Shh.” He nips at her ear, penetrating her slowly with one finger, then two. Her eyes close, and for a moment she can almost forget where they are. Maybe it’s a cold night on Concord Dawn, and they’re curled together in that narrow bed, touching and sharing warmth.

Her bed on Coruscant is too big. She never noticed it before.

He pulls his fingers out, teasing her with light strokes, never touching her exactly where the deepest ache is. 

“Oh  _ gods _ .” She’s trying to be quiet, she really is. “Boba…”

He exhales, almost a laugh, his breath hot on her cheek. He finally, purposefully hits  _ that spot _ , and she can’t stop the cry that tears out of her throat. He doesn’t stop touching her, the first wave of pleasure hits and then a second right behind it, and her knees almost buckle.

When her senses return, his arms are around her, holding her tight. She reaches back clumsily and strokes his cheek with her hand. “Cold,” he remarks, but he doesn’t move away from the touch. 

“Sorry.” Leia draws in a breath, trying not to sound as flustered as she feels. “On a scale of one to ten, how uncomfortable is that codpiece right now?”

“About an eight.” 

“I could…” She drops her hand under his belt.

“Next time.” He presses a kiss into the curve of her neck and lets her go.

She turns around to face him, watching as he puts his gloves back on. The gods only know when the next time will be, but for the moment, the existence of it is enough. “Let’s say I owe you,” she says as casually as she can. 

He looks over at her, his helmet in his hands, and the corner of his mouth turns up. “Until next time, Ambassador.” 


	2. Comm sex

From Malastare to Tatooine, from Tatooine to Nar Shaddaa. Nar Shaddaa to Sullust. He keeps retracing the path, over and over again, trying to see the pattern. There’s a reason Desento did this, even with so much heat on his tail. The route doesn’t make sense otherwise.

Fett rubs the bridge of his nose hard enough to make his skin burn. Hunting convicts is always a pain in the ass, but this particular convict is proving far too adept at running.

Every console in the cockpit of  _ Slave I  _  is lit, running queries, sifting through millions of databases. Docking bay records, med center records, immigration records, news feeds. The answer is in there somewhere.

His head is fucking  _ throbbing _ .

The console hums, announcing an incoming transmission. It’s Leia. He accepts it immediately. “Everything okay?”

The word he doesn’t want to hear is “fine.” That’s the  _ bad _ word, as their seven-year old sons have deemed it. The drop-everything-we’re-in-danger word.

“Same as always,” she says. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No. I’m in route.”

“You don’t have visual on.”

“It’s still screwing with the encryption.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “Any progress?”

“Some.” He grimaces, even though she can’t see it. “It’s going to be at least another week. Maybe more.”

She sighs. “The boys won’t like that.”

“I’ll tell them.”

“They went to bed hours ago.” A pause. “You sound tired. When was the last time you slept?”

“I’ll turn in soon. Not getting a fucking thing done anyway.”

“Tired  _ and _ frustrated,” she chides. “Not good, Fett. Where are you right now? Cockpit?”

“Yes.”

“In armor or out?”

“Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Out. Shirt and pants.” He lets his head fall back against the headrest and his eyes close. “Do I get to ask what you’re wearing?”

“Nothing. I’m in the bath. I put the boys to bed, finished a committee proposal, made an event list for the unveiling of the new Mandalorian fighters and now I’m on my second glass of wine and I’m taking a bath.” There’s a faint splashing sound. He knows from experience that she puts something in the water that makes it milky white. Something that smells sweet and fresh, like a tropical flower. “It’s called  _ relaxing _ ,” she continues. “I really think you should try it.”

“Where would I put bathtub in here?”

“Don’t be so blasted literal. Listen to music. Watch something funny. Or…you know...discharge your weapon.”

“I’d rather talk to you than jerk off.”

“Well…” There’s another pause. “You could do both.” His eyes barely open. He’s trying to gauge her seriousness from her tone. “I’ve never really done commsex before,” she admits. “Have you?”

“No.”

“It can’t be that hard. You put your hand in your pants and I’ll say dirty things until you come.” When he doesn’t respond, her exasperation is clear. “Just  _ try _ it, all right? What do you  _ want _ right now?”

“You,” he growls, closing his eyes again. “Here.”

“Well, obviously this would be  _ so much easier _ if I was-” She stops, and her voice drops to a lower, softer tone. “If I was there, I would be unsnapping your pants right about now.”

“Leia-”

“I would be kneeling between your legs and telling you that everything is going to be all right. I’m going to make things better. All you have to do is trust me.”

“Fuck,” he says, because there’s no way he’s getting out of this. 

Leia laughs softly. “That’s the spirit. Gods, do you know how long it’s been since we last had sex? Over a month. Closer to two, probably.”

It’s been fifty-one days, but he doesn’t say that. He can almost see her, her dark hair piled on her head, surrounded by scented water. “Hmm,” she sighs. “You know what I’ve been sitting here thinking about? Going down on you. Remember the last time?”

It was sixty-eight days ago. He was sleeping off a long trip and Leia crawled into bed with him. 

“Did you like that? Waking up hard, having your dick sucked?”

“It was…” Adjectives fail him. “I liked it.” He liked the part that came after it too. Just when he was ready to explode, she climbed on him and rode him hard, with a maddening lack of rhythm that kept him on the edge even longer. 

He shifts in his seat, and looks down at his crotch with mild surprise.  _ Fierfek _ , this might actually work. He unsnaps his pants and pushes his shorts out of the way. It’s  _ her _ hand he wants on his cock, but if he can just stay in this moment with her, maybe it’s enough. 

“You were _ so _ hard,” Leia murmurs. “I remember thinking to myself, ‘why don’t we do this more often?’ But we’re never home at the same time. We barely share the same bed. I just want…” She pauses and inhales. “...to take a very long, hot shower with you. Just you and me in a cloud of steam.”

He closes his eyes again, but this time with purpose. “That’s what I want.”

“What’s that?”

“You, jerking me off in the shower.”

“That’s ...a definite possibility.” There’s a hitch in her breathing. “When you come home, we’re going to go somewhere private, away from everything. We’re going to get in the shower together and I’m going to wash myself all over while you watch, and then I’m going to wash you...very slowly and with great attention to detail. Then I’m going to put soap on my hands and stroke your cock. Both of my hands just sliding up and down, over and over again. How does that sound?”

“That should do it,” he says through gritted teeth. His own hand picks up the pace.

“For me too,” she agrees, nearly panting. “We are absolutely doing this as soon as possible. I love touching you when we’re both wet and slippery. I love it when you’re just on the edge of losing it, the way you look at me...oh...where do you want to come when we’re doing this? Do you want me on my knees?” She draws in a shuddering breath. “Do you want to come on my breasts?”

“ _ Fierfek _ .”

For blissful moment, everything is gone. The glowing displays, the hum of the engines, the pain in his head. When he opens his eyes, it’s all still there, but none of it seems as important. His head might even ache a little less. He lets both of his hands rest on the arms of his chair, flexing his fingers as the rush of endorphins subsides. 

His mouth flattens with annoyance when he sees the wet spot on his shirt. Poor planning. He rolls it up and pulls it over his head, letting it drop carelessly to the floor. He gazes out at the dark, flashing depths of hyperspace for a minute or two. 

“Boba?”

“You were right.”

She laughs softly in response. “I’m glad it worked. Seven hells, I’m ready to go to bed.”

“You should.”

“So should you. Go to your bunk and get some sleep.” There’s more splashing. He imagines she’s standing up, water streaming off her body as she puts a hand on her naked hip. “When you wake up, you’re going to find that bastard, get paid and come home. Is that understood?”

He smiles a little. “Understood.”

“And no more jobs for at least a month.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Don’t argue. I’ve been solo with the boys for at least that long. You  _ owe _ me.”

“We’ll talk about it when I get back.”

“Yes, we  _ certainly _ will.” 


	3. Reluctance, Doggy-style

Fett is passing through the spaceport in Keldabe when he hears her voice. Six large holo displays near the entrance are running feeds from all over the galaxy. Three are showing boloball matches, two are local news feeds and one is showing a feed from Coruscant.

Senator Leia Organa, representing the Mandalore system, is speaking about some situation somewhere. He’s not really paying attention to what she’s saying. She’s wearing a white dress, black bands crossing her chest just over the high swell of her belly. This is prerecorded footage. Leia returned to Mandalore this morning, and intends to stay there until the baby is born.

He’s going to be a father again. Not his idea.

When he enters the house, she’s in the kitchen. “Welcome back,” she says, her back to him. She’s standing at the counter, reading from her datapad and eating sliced fruit out of a bowl. 

Fett removes his helmet and begins the process of disarming, watching her out of the corner of his eye. It all happened so gradually at first. Her cheeks became fuller, her breasts heavier, her hips wider. Her stomach was barely noticeable until the final stage, when it suddenly doubled in size.

He remembers watching Sin’s body change with the same fascination. Easy enough to forget that sex is a biological imperative. The drive, the pleasure, all of it functions to ensure the survival of their species.

It’s a function that was absent in his own creation. He’s seen the laboratory, cold and sterile the way most laboratories are. He’s seen the Kaminoans watching their observation screens, the scanners and the processors and the array of devices used to extract genetic material from Jango. No one got any pleasure out of his conception. 

His son will have a different story. One where two people from very different parts of the galaxy had a secret and very ill-advised fling, and after the relationship had run its course, failed to keep the necessary distance from one another. 

It was a mistake, but Leia insists that this is what she wants. Half of him and half of her, growing inside of her, making her stomach rounder and fuller every day. Her skin glows and her eyes have a fierce light in them. When the baby moves, she rubs her stomach and smiles.

She doesn’t look up when he moves behind her. He puts his hands on her hips and leans down to kiss the back of her neck. 

She flinches and brings her hand up as if she’s shooing away an insect. “Go eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” He likes the view from this angle. Her full breasts are perfectly framed by her dress, and he wonders if her milk is in yet. “Come shower with me.”

She snorts in response. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Look at me. I wouldn’t fit.”

“Yes you will.”

“Look again. I’m a bantha.”

He slides his hand up the back of her leg, bringing her skirt up with it. “I’ve seen banthas fuck. Maybe not in the shower, but-”

Leia steps to the side and turns abruptly to face him, her hand pushing at his chest. “Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

“Yes.” He captures her hand and pulls it down under his belt. “Not in the shower.”

“ _ No _ .” She jerks her hand back. “Not  _ anywhere _ . I know you just got home and this is normally how we say hello, but you might as well get used to taking care of yourself for a while.”

“Why?”

She’s pissed off now, no mistaking that. “ _ Look at me _ . I can barely move.” 

“You don’t have to move.” He takes a step towards her, and she retreats again, but her back is at the corner of the counter. He closes in and kisses her, his hand on the back of her neck. Her mouth tastes tart, like the fruit she’s been eating. 

He takes her hand and tugs her toward the bedroom. “Come with me.”

She’s not enthusiastic about it, but she allows herself to be led. “Where exactly did you see banthas fuck?”

“Jabba-”

“ _ Of course _ .” 

“-Hired me to find a Tusken Raider who was causing trouble. He bred banthas.” He stops at the foot of the bed. “Sit down.”

Leia sighs heavily as she does so. “I don’t know about this.”

Fett kneels at her bare feet. He stepped over her shoes on the way in. “Funny thing about banthas,” he says as he sheds his gloves. “They don’t breed on their own. Did you know that?”

“No. What-” He starts rubbing the sole of her left foot and her lips part. “Oh. That’s...Mm.”

“Harder?”

“Maybe...just a little.” His hands move up her calf and she closes her eyes, bracing her arms on the bed. “How do banthas survive if they don’t breed on their own?”

“There’s a bush that grows wild in the lower reaches of the Dune Sea. The sandpeople brew it like tea and drink it. It’s a natural stimulant.” He moves to her other foot. “When it was more abundant, the banthas would eat it before mating. But between the sandpeople harvesting it and changes to the environment, it’s become scarce. So the raiders that breed banthas have to try to produce the same effect with different stimulants.” He lifts up her skirt to her thighs and presses his mouth into the soft skin on the inside of her knee. “You haven’t seen rough sex until you’ve seen two banthas high on glitterstim spice.”

Leia laughs and then gasps when his mouth moves higher. He pulls her closer to the edge of the bed and hooks his fingers around the top of her underwear. “They do this too,” he says as he pulls it down. 

“They do not!”

“I’ve seen it. Have you ever seen their tongues?” He leans in, dragging his own tongue up the inside of her thigh. She squirms in response.

“I thought you didn’t like doing that.”

“I never said that.”

“Oh gods, now I remember. You said you didn’t like the taste, which is so much worse. Please don’t do this if-” Her sentence ends abruptly with a strangled sound. He’s not wasting any more time. The objective is to get her as wet as possible as fast as possible. He’s going for the galaxy-wide record on eating a woman out, if such a thing exists.

She doesn’t say anything else, at least nothing that could be construed as words. She falls back on her elbows, her fingers grasping at the blankets beneath her. She doesn’t squirm as much as she usually does, but she still shudders and moans and comes apart with ragged cry. 

He gets up, and goes to the ‘fresher to rinse his mouth and wash his face. When he returns, she’s resting on her back, her chest rising and falling. “Well,” she starts to say, but nothing follows it. He strips off the rest of his armor and clothing as she pulls herself awkwardly up into a sitting position. The straps of her dress have loosened, the top of the garment is falling off her shoulders and her breasts are barely covered.

He walks up to her and pulls his shorts down. She looks at his erection with her raised eyebrows. “Get on your hands and knees.”

She makes a face and reaches for his cock. “That’s not really the best look for me right now.”

He catches her hand. “Try it. If it’s uncomfortable, say so.”

She presses her lips together for a moment, but she turns and climbs up on the bed. Her cheeks are red, and her hair is disheveled. He takes a minute just to look at her, the heavy curves of her body and the flush of her skin against her white dress. She’s wrong. This is an excellent look. He kneels behind on her bed and her breath catches as he presses into her.

“Seven hells,” she murmurs. “You’re really...you like this, don’t you?”

“What? Bantha-style?” 

“You think you’re funny,” she says, a little breathlessly. “But you’re not.”

He moves and she moves with him, a soft moan escaping her lips. He strokes her hips and her belly. Her skin is feverishly hot under his hands.

She pushes back against him, panting with every thrust. Her breasts are soft, and fill his hands more than usual, the nipples fuller and firmer. He leans over her, covering her body with his, lost in the rhythm and friction. He nuzzles into her hair and one hand draws up to cup her breast again. Her nipple is wet, and his rhythm breaks. He pushes into her once more, as deep as he can go, and comes. She makes some kind of noise, sharp enough to break through the endorphins flooding his brain. Oh,  _ fuck _ . He pulls out, still coming, struggling to regain his voice. “...Okay?”

“Oh. Yes.” A shuddering breath goes through her. “I just...almost lost my balance there.” She turns her head and peeks at him over her shoulder. “ _ Now _ I’m going to need a shower.”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine.” She moves awkwardly into a sitting position, brushing her hair off her cheek.

He falls forward on the bed, relieved. “Go. I’ll change the sheets.” She doesn’t move. After a minute or two he looks over at her. She’s watching him. “What?”

“Nothing.” She slides off the edge, heading for the ‘fresher. “Enjoy it while it lasts, I guess.”


	4. Morning lazy sex

“...And that’s everything.” Leia pauses to take a sip of water from the glass on the kitchen counter. “I’m sorry to be throwing all of this at you.”

The blue holographic image of Mon Mothma tilts her head to one side. “Nonsense. It’s all very routine. I’ll have one of my staff members attend the meeting on your behalf.”

“Thank you.”

The chancellor leans forward, her arms on her desk, her hands clasped together. “Off the record, I want you to know how much I respect what you’re doing. Considering everything you’ve been through, a little personal time is overdue. I hope it brings you clarity.”

“I hope so too.” Leia looks down briefly. “There’s one more thing. Off the record.”

“Of course. What can I do?”

“I’m afraid I overstepped the bounds of an Ambassador. I removed a section eight detention officer from duty, based on allegations of misconduct.”

“A detention officer?” Mon Mothma frowns slightly. “What kind of misconduct?”

“The kind that warrants a full investigation.” Her fingers move restlessly, and she folds her hands in front of her. “I know I should have gone through General Fenstra, but I needed to move quickly, for reasons I can’t fully explain right now.” She takes a breath. “I’m only telling you, because if it comes up...I need you to cover for me. Call it a classifed transfer.”

“I see.” Her friend moves a few sheets of flimsy on her desk before she responds. “It’s no small thing, moving from resistance to governance. We are all still in period of adjustment, I think. I’m sure that when you return to your duties, you will do so with enthusiasm for the process required to maintain a stable and fair government.”

“I will.”

Mon Mothma nods. “Please take excellent care of yourself and enjoy your personal time.”

The communication ends, and Leia is alone in her kitchen again. She checks the time. It’s early yet, but she doesn’t feel like going back to sleep. She drinks the rest of her water. Condensation gathers on the outside of the glass, slick beneath her fingertips. She wipes her hand on her robe and walks back into the bedroom, quietly, in case her guest is still sleeping.

Boba Fett is stretched out on his stomach across the bed, his head resting on his arms. His eyes open the second she enters the room and follow her as she sits on the edge of the bed beside him. 

“I feel like I’m playing hooky.”

He blinks at her.

“It’s...when you pretend to be sick to get of going to school, or work?” His expression doesn’t change. “Never? Not even when you were young?”

“I was taught at home. Hard to pull that off.”

“Fair enough.” She reaches for the medkit. “Since you’re awake, I might as well change the dressings on your back. Do you want a shot for the pain?”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes again. He slept most of the previous day, which seems reasonable under the circumstances. She still finds herself swallowing a hard knot of anger when she sees the coloring bruises on his skin, the red lines of abraded flesh. The worst of it is on his back. She carefully peels up the edge of the bacta patch covering a raw, painful burn the size of her hand. One of six. He doesn’t move or open his eyes, but his shoulders are rigid, muscles gathered tight beneath his skin.

“I can give you a local shot,” she offers.

A second’s pause, then a nod. 

She gives him a quick injection. “It’ll take a minute to start working. Were you always taught at home?”

“Until I was about ten. My father taught me the basics. Language. Calculations. Flight mechanics. Everything else…” He shifts, and winces a little. “I’ve always been a fast learner.”

When he says his  _ father _ , of course, he means Jango Fett. The bounty hunter who served as the template for all of the clones. Leia tried looking for information in the archives, but was unable to turn up much beyond that and the fact that Jango Fett died at the battle of Geonosis, roughly twenty-five years ago. 

She changes the dressings in silence, then rubs antiseptic ointment into the ligature marks crossing his arms, legs and torso. At the detention center he was bound with cord and left for hours when he wouldn’t talk. “Can you sit up?” She asks, and he stiffly complies. She works her way up from his feet, gently massaging the cream into his skin.

She straddles his knees while she rubs it into his chest. “You don’t get medical examinations often, do you?”

“No.”

“That might be for the best.” She casts a meaningful look down at the obvious bulge in the front of his shorts.“ _ That’s _ generally frowned upon.” She smooths a little bit of cream into a cut on his cheek, and his hands move to her thighs. “So is that,” she said as they follow the curve of her ass. “And  _ that _ .”

One hand retreats, but only far enough to slide up her thigh, under her nightdress. He cups her between her legs, rubbing her through her underwear. She fumbles the container of ointment, trying to get the lid back on. “I need to put this away,” she says, and then with impatience when he doesn’t stop, “You can wait three seconds.”

“One.”

“Are you  _ counting _ ?” His fingers work around the edge of her underwear, and Leia drops the lid. He presses into her without hesitation, and a welcoming rush of heat runs straight through her core. “Godsdammnit, Fett-”

“Two.”

“Oh my  _ gods _ . You can’t just-” His thumb finds her clit and her vision goes hazy. She grabs his shoulder for balance, still awkwardly holding the container of ointment in her other hand. “You’ll regret it later if I spill this.”

He takes it from her and sets it on the table beside the bed, the lid completely abandoned. “Three,” he says, and thrusts his fingers deeper inside of her. 

She makes a pitched, helpless (and frankly, sort of embarrassing) noise, and his free hand cups the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. 

A little more than thirty hours have passed since she authorized the bounty hunter’s  “transfer” from the detention center, and this is already far past the point where she could chalk it up to a lapse in judgement. 

He tugs the robe off her shoulders and the straps of her nightdress are quick to follow. She slips her arms out, letting the silky fabric pool at her waist. He makes a low sound of approval as he touches her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple.

Her belly tightens with anticipation, and every stroke of his fingers between her legs tortures her. She shudders and clumsily grasps his hand, showing him what she needs. He  _ is _ a fast learner. He picks up the exact motion, the slow back and forth, just the right amount of pressure.

The tension builds inside of her, higher and hotter. She’s barely breathing by the time she reaches the peak, and once she falls over the edge all she can do is breathe, big, gulping gasps. When her sense of orientation returns, she’s on her back, her bones liquid. Fett is over her now, watching her face with a faint smirk of satisfaction. 

He moves, pulling her underwear away, lining up his body with hers. She drowsily spreads her legs so he can enter her. Now it’s her turn to watch his face, to see his eyes close briefly and feel his stomach draw tight against hers. He rocks into her, slow and steady, and she closes her eyes, her body moving easily with his.

Maybe he’s pacing himself. Maybe that shot wasn’t quite strong enough. After weeks of imprisonment, torture and abuse, it astonishes her that he can stand, much less maintain an active interest in sex. She opens her eyes, but the only thing she can see in his eyes is hunger. This is what he wants. Maybe it’s also what he needs.

She draws in a deep breath and arches her back, tilting her hips to meet his. When she puts her arms around his neck he lowers his head to catch her mouth, thrusting into her with just a little more force.

She teasingly grazes his lower lip with her teeth. He likes that. She can tell by the way he presses into her. She squirms, tightening her inner walls, savoring the feeling of being filled. His breathing is getting harsher, and just when she’s started to get concerned, he ducks his head into her shoulder and comes, straining into her. His arms are shaking. 

He exhales a long deep breath and shifts his weight, resting his head on her chest. Leia closes her eyes again, lazily stroking the back of his neck. She’s surprised by how sleepy she feels now. Fett doesn’t seem inclined to move, so maybe she’ll let herself doze for a bit. It’s still early. And she doesn’t have anywhere else to be.


	5. Special request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this prompt: "smut drabble idea if you ever need one down the line: Fett's been gone awhile. Leia's horny and frustrated so decides to take care of herself. Fett comes home unexpectedly while she's in the middle of said business and hears her making noises. Thinks she's with someone else and gets mad. Walks in to find her doin it solo. Angry/passionate sex ensues."

She still hasn’t changed her entry code. Fett keys it in and enters her apartment. A well-dressed Twi’lek couple passes by as he shuts the door, but they barely give him a second look. He’s in street clothes, no visible weapons. 

He shuts the door behind him and checks the time. His business in the undercity took longer than anticipated and now it’s close to midnight. Leia is probably asleep. Her shoes lay carelessly on the floor, her cloak thrown over the couch. There’s an open bottle of wine on the kitchen counter, about half empty. 

Must have been a long day.

A sound rises from the bedroom, soft, but distinct enough to catch his attention. A moan. He turns towards it, every muscle and nerve in his body suddenly on high alert. 

She makes another sound, a half-gasping noise, followed by a low “Mmmm.”

_ Fierfek _ .

It feels like a kick to the stomach. Their relationship is unconventional and secret, but also, to best of his understanding,  _ exclusive _ . 

His feet start towards the bedroom. His mind catches up to his feet three steps from the door, forcing him to consider whether or not this is something he actually needs to do. Why not just leave? It’s over. Should never have happened in the first place. Nothing lost in the end.

But there is a part of him that needs to see it. He needs to see her with this other man, to see her face. To see  _ his _ face. He needs to know who this man is, whether he’s a one-time drunken impulse, a long-time lover, or someone that she...reconnected with.

This is what he has to accept, before he takes a step further. Leia is fucking someone else. It could be Han Solo. 

He can have visual confirmation of that fact, but that’s  _ all  _ he can have. He can’t have anger. He can’t have violence. Nothing that would indicate that she hurt him. Nothing that would indicate that he cares.

Maybe he could lean against the doorframe and wait silently until one of them notices his presence. He wouldn’t mind scaring the hell out of them, if that’s all he can have.

She moans again, a raw, fragile,  _ familiar _ sound. 

He’s going to miss fucking her.

He takes a deep breath, and moves silently through the arch that leads into her bedroom. 

Leia is alone on the bed.

She’s wearing a transparent black robe, open in spite of the slender ribbon around her waist. Her eyes are shut, her legs spread open. There’s something blue buried between her legs, and the fingers of her right hand are busy stroking up and down through her folds.

She opens her eyes, but she’s looking at the ceiling, where a holoprojection is playing without sound. A pretty young woman is penetrated by two men at once, and seems to really be enjoying it. Fett tilts his head to get a better look, and the movement alerts Leia, who nearly falls off the bed in a mad scramble to close her legs and her robe.

Her face is so red, it’s nearly glowing. “Boba,” she says, breathless and furious. “What the hell are you  _ doing _ ?”

He leans to the side, just to see if that blue thing is still between her legs. It is.

“ _ Boba _ .”

He moves forward, bracing one knee on the bed. She’s regained just enough composure to glare at him, her chest heaving. He reaches down and wraps his fingers around her ankle, and she kicks at him, a reflex without any real intent. She’s pissed off and embarrassed. 

He slides his hand up to her knee and leans over her, half-expecting her to slap his face.

She doesn’t, so he kisses her, crushing her mouth beneath his. He moves her leg aside, spreading her open again. She bucks and tries half-heartedly to avoid him, but the struggling stops the moment he touches the blue object between her legs. It  _ vibrates _ . He pulls the bright blue phallus halfway out, then looks up at Leia.

“You were late,” she says icily. 

“So you replaced me. With this.”

She arches her eyebrows and gazes back at him. 

He pushes it back inside of her in one smooth motion, and her hips jerk. Her cheeks are still deeply flushed, her breathing hard. His eyes dart up to the ceiling, where the recording continues. The woman is riding one man while another fucks her from behind, her expression rapturous. He looks back at Leia, and who presses her lips together and says nothing. 

“You’re right.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“I was late. And you have every right to satisfy yourself as you please. Please. Continue.” He straightens and removes his coat, dropping it on the floor. His belt swiftly follows.

“What are you saying?” Leia asks warily. “You’re just going to watch?”

“Fuck, no.” He looked purposely up at the porn above them as he unhooks his belt. “I’ll take the back. Where’s your lube?”


	6. Blow job, Special outfit, Rough/biting/scratch

Luke thinks this is a terrible idea, but Luke is often wrong. Days turn to weeks and Leia grows more and more comfortable with her life as a married woman. 

Of course it’s going to be complicated. Of course it’s going to be hard.

Fifty-two days ago, she married Boba Fett.

She gathers an armful of garments from her closet and lays them on the bed. She likes her house in Keldabe, but she could really use some more closet space. Especially now that another person lives here. 

She removes another armful of clothing and eyes the space left. It might be too much. She opens his drawer in the wall unit and looks down at all the clothing he currently has here. Two pairs of undershorts, two undershirts, one pair of pants.

She told him he could bring the rest of his belongings here and he looked blankly at her. “Why?”

“Aren’t there things you want to have while you’re here?”

He shrugged.

In all fairness, he hasn’t needed much. The injuries he sustained on Malastare kept him from his usual activities for several weeks. 

With one exception.

Leia’s eyes stray back to the bed, buried under a mound of clothes, and she smiles. He told her there would be payback for what she did to him on their their brief honeymoon, and last week he made good on it. It was necessary, he explained, to make sure that he was fully recovered before he went back to work.

“Don’t make it easy,” he told her. “Run. Hide. Throw things. Fight me.”

There’s a dent in the kitchen wall that will have to be fixed. Even in a house this small, it was good twenty minutes before he dragged her out from under the kitchen table. She kicked, she knocked over chairs, she twisted and clawed. He had to drag her into the bedroom, and she fought him every second until her back hit the bed.

He crawled over her, pinning her arms above her head. He was breathing hard. “ _ Fierfek _ . You  _ bit _ me.”

“You said-”

He kissed her, rough and deep. His body covered hers, forcing her legs apart as he unfastened his pants. She had no clothing to remove. 

It turns her on so much when he holds her down. She can squirm as much as she wants, but he can easily keep her in place. The moment he’s inside of her she surrenders, willingly and eagerly. He’s always generous in victory. 

Afterward, she pronounced him fully recovered, and he agreed. Two days later he took a contract and went back to work. 

They both need to resume their normal lives, but it was sort of nice while it lasted. Most of their relationship has been based around their work schedules, fitting in a few nights here and a quick conversation there. Spending their days together, no rush, no demands...it was different. Not in a bad way. 

For the first week after they returned to Mandalore his leg was still in a brace, and he couldn’t do much more than limp from the bed to the table. She was worried about him. She didn’t think he was eating enough, even thought he might be a little anemic. 

There was an extended negotiation about it, which ended with Leia on her knees in front of him. She took her time getting him hard, and even when she took him in her mouth, she made it last as long as she could. By the time he came, he was sweating, and his hands were shaking. He cleaned his plate, at that meal and every meal after it.

He’s a difficult convalescent. That doesn’t surprise her. He likes to be active, physically and mentally. About a week ago she intentionally broke the internal house computer. She knocked a few bolts loose in the emergency power supply and “lost” the vent cap, just to give him something to do while she was at a meeting.

When she returned he was waiting for her, sitting at the table with the chair turned toward the door. The brace was off his leg by that point. He wore pants and a sleeveless undershirt, his arms folded over his chest. 

The missing vent cap was resting in the center of the table.

“It’s a good thing you’re an excellent politician,” he said. “Because you’d starve to death as a saboteur.” 

The table is exactly the right height for her to sit on the edge and wrap her legs around him. It could be a little wider, though. She came so hard she almost fell off of it. 

Her husband doesn’t like or trust politicians, but he thinks she’s excellent at her job. She feels the same way about bounty hunters. 

She leaves the bedroom for the narrow front hall. There are two small crates by the door. Fett brought them over from  _ Slave I _ before he left. She hasn’t looked inside, but she can imagine what they contain. Tools. A repair kit for his armor. Maybe some clothes.

He’ll be back today. She’s certain he’ll be on time. She sent him a message the previous day. “I bought something special to wear when you get home. It’s very...unsubtle.”

In some ways, things are just the same. They still have schedules to reconcile. Fitting in a few nights here, a quick conversation there. It’s never going to be simple.

But she doesn’t care. Luke is wrong. This is going to work.

She’ll have dinner delivered tonight. Something  _ special _ . Her stomach rolls unexpectedly, and she frowns. 

The day before yesterday she threw up, and twice yesterday, but she felt fine by mid-afternoon. She got a good night’s sleep. In fact, she went to bed much earlier than she normally did. 

The nausea washes over her again and she moves slowly to the ‘fresher, just in case she can’t hold it in.

The very thought is enough to make her stomach convulse, and she clamps her hand over her mouth until the danger passes. Kriffing hell, why now? If it was something she ate, why does it come and go?

She glances up into the ‘fresher mirror, and her frustration transforms into horror. 

Oh gods no.

It can’t be. She had a contraception shot just after they were married, and before that they were broken up for a number of months so there’s no possible way-

Except there was one possible way. Remembrance Day, when she was high enough on success and ale to forget that sleeping with an ex is never a good idea. “If we’re going to do this, we do it here and now and never again,” she told him. 

It was supposed to be goodbye.

And even though she was unprotected, she assumed he was still injecting himself, because he always did. He made it very,  _ very _ clear that he didn’t want to risk a pregnancy. Especially not with someone force-sensitive.

Oh  _ gods _ .

Could this really get worse? How could she find out? Luke. Luke would-

She stopped halfway through the ‘fresher door.

Maybe not Luke.

Who else could she call?

 


	7. First time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of underage sex and questionable consent.

“Oh. Oh  _ gods _ .” Leia gasped as she fell forward. She caught herself on shaking arms, endorphins pulsing through her body. “ _ Kriffing _ hell.”

She was barely aware of Fett’s hand caressing her face, and the movement of his body beneath hers. Eventually she let her head drop forward until her forehead touched his shoulder, just long enough to regain some of her senses. She could hear her own panting breath, mixed with his. She could smell sweat and sex and the slightly burnt smell of industrial rubber. She could feel the heat of his skin, his hands spread over her hips. The friction deep inside as he thrust up into her.

She squirmed a little, spreading her legs wider. “Oh gods, that’s good,” she murmured against his skin. Her hips rolled with him as his hands tightened on her body, and his movements became rougher and less controlled. Her eyes still shut, she concentrated the sound of his breathing, the hitch, and then the muffled groan. One hand moved up her naked back and and tangled in her hair as he held her tightly against him.

Leia turned her head, resting her cheek on his shoulder. For a few tranquil minutes, there was only the sound of shuddering breath.

“Okay,” she said finally, “that was  _ really _ uncomfortable.”

“Agreed,” Fett grunted. “We’re not doing that again.”

She rolled to his side with a sigh, moving her legs around a very awkwardly placed console. The cockpit was ridiculously small to begin with, and the floor was covered with a thick rubber padding that had an unpleasant texture and left grimy black smudges on everything it touched. Her cloak, hastily tossed on the floor, was the only salvation of her hands and knees, not to mention Fett’s entire back.

“How the hell does Dyrk manage to fly around in a ship with no bunk?” 

“You want me to comm him and ask him how he fucks in here?” He shifted and tucked a hand between the back of his head and the bulkhead.

“That’s not funny.”

“He probably doesn’t fuck in here. Although I’m sure he would make an exception for Skywalker.”

“Stop it.” Leia lifted her head up enough to glare at him. “I realize you don’t have siblings, but-” She stopped as a thought occurred to her. “Well, I suppose technically you have a lot of brothers.”

“No, I don’t. Not like you mean.”

She settled her head back down on his shoulder again, her eyes drifting across the small cockpit. It was a very  _ Mandalorian _ ship, simple, functional, and highly maneuverable. She felt a little guilty about commandeering it and leaving Dyrk and Luke stranded on Tanaab. 

It was not her most graceful exit, but under the circumstances, she felt it was best to simply disappear.

Her attention returned to the man beside her. “Get me out of here,” she’d said, and he did. One day she might actually reach the limit of what he would do for her.

“Can I ask a personal question?”

There was a pause while he considered it. “Yes.”

“Can you tell when people recognize your face?”

“Most of the time.” He fell silent again, his hand idly stroking her back. “There was a woman, once. We were...in an intimate situation. Clothes coming off. She looked down and said ‘hey, how come you have a belly button?’”

Leia cringed. “She really said that?”

“I couldn’t tell with her. Most sentients, it makes them wary when they recognize it. They don’t know what to expect. She didn’t react like that. Maybe it interested her.” His shoulder moved under her head as he shrugged. “I didn’t stick around to find out.”

“I don’t blame you.” Leia spread a protective hand over his stomach. “The manners of some people...I remember this one time, when I was around eighteen. I slept with this man, and I thought it was great, but he had this look on his face afterward. He asked me if I was all right, and I said of course I was, and then he said, ‘I thought you might bleed.’”

Fett turned his head towards her. “What?”

“That’s what I said. And then it hit me. He thought he was my first. And not only did he just assume that, but he was  _ kriffing _ disappointed  _ that I didn’t bleed _ .”

“ _ Fierfek _ .”

“I  _ know _ .” She shuddered, remembering. “I didn’t bleed even when it  _ was _ my first time. It didn’t even hurt, really, it was just...awkward.” She sighed. “I’ve never understood what the big deal is about being someone’s first.” 

“Same here.” Fett agreed. “I was Sin’s first. I don’t know if she bled, but I know it hurt. She hit me in the face.” 

“She  _ what _ ?”

“I probably deserved it. Too impatient.”

There were any number of things Leia wanted to say about that, but she always felt that she had to tread carefully around the subject of Sintas Vel. “You said you were Sin’s first. She wasn’t yours?”

“No.”

“Who was  _ your  _ first?”

There was a long pause. “Who was yours?”

“It was my second year of service in the Senate, and he was doing an internship. Very well-connected family. No one gave him any actual work, so he spent all his time flirting with me. It didn’t last long. He was nice, but we had...different priorities.” 

“And the sex was awkward.”

“The first time it was.” She moved her hand up to his chest. “I told you mine. Tell me yours.”

His chest rose and fell under her palm. “There used to be a black market ring run by the Proshudun family on the outer rim. Bothans. Velmar Proshudun was the family head. I captured one of his former employees who was caught stealing from the family, but when I delivered him, Velmar was having a dinner party. I had to wait around until he was free to collect my reward. There was a dancer performing for the guests. A human female. Trained at the Arrokai Academy.”

Leia lifted her head, surprised. “I saw an Arrokai dancer perform once on Coruscant. It was breathtaking and the tickets were extremely expensive.”

“I’d never seen anything like it. Velmar saw my interest, and when he finally paid up, he invited me to stay the night as his guest. He said the dancer liked me, and he would see to it that she had the rest of the evening off.”

“And you agreed?” 

“Yes.” 

“Was it awkward?”

“Not at first. I enjoyed it. But when she got up to leave, I saw her face, and I realized the truth. She didn’t like me.” He paused for a moment, his voice matter-of-fact. “Her father owed money to the Proshudun family. So she danced for Velmar. And occasionally she danced for others. At his request.”

Leia didn’t trust herself to speak immediately. “How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

“My  _ gods _ , Boba.”

“You asked,” he reminded her. “She was my first.”

“I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he said, a sharp edge in his voice. “It’s in the past. I met Sin a year later.  _ She _ liked me.” His mouth twisted slightly. “I told her I didn’t want to have sex until we were married.”

“So that’s how that happened.” Leia curled against him again, holding him a little tighter.

“It seems pretty stupid now.”

“You said there  _ used _ to be a black market ring run by these Bothans. What happened to them?”

“Velmar made a series of bad business decisions, and his outfit was eventually taken over by the Hutts. I don’t know what happened to the dancer.”

“Oh.” She closed her eyes, her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart for a while. “How long until we reach Mandalore?”

“About four hours.”

“That certainly gives us some time for...creative problem solving.” She tilted her head up to look at him.

His mouth curved in response, and his hand moved up to smooth her hair back from her cheek. “It does.”


End file.
